August 31st, 2005
|10:17 am - Keeping up with myself|
Sometimes, the natrual world has nothing on the city.
The rain in the forests and the mountains and the fields is cleansing, but it falls in the darkness and soaks into the ground. It has done this for millions of years, since before we crawled out of the slime pools that we came from.
But last night, as I stepped outside the grocery store, I looked at the rain. It fell in sheets, striking the asphalt and splashing in the puddles. A streetlamp was shining down upon the scene.
And the heavens were under my feet.
I watched the stars that were obscured by clouds above me fall to the earth: the light reflecting off the splash, each drop of water flickering and dancing in the streetlamp against the blacktop below.
I watched the scene for a moment, smiling.
Miracles and stars can be found in the strangest places.
Current Mood: thoughtful
Current Music: "The Christian", -JB
I'm of the adamant opinion that there is just as much beauty in the city -- and just as much squalor and ugliness in the country -- as vice versa.
Anyone who's ridden through the backroads of Ohio will know about the squallor and ugliness.
Interestingly, I've just thought that those who live in the country are possibly less likely to be in contact with the ground they walk on. I've seen enough yards with garbage and trash and broken vehicles strewn around them that I'm now wondering if all that extra space doesn't encourage a more distant feel to the earth.
That's a totally half-formed thought, though.